Archive for November, 2010

Now, on some levels, the woman has a valid point. But on others, this is really annoying me this morning. Probably irrationally, but it is. Why? I am not even fully sure…except that I do think some is better than none, but while more is better something is better than nothing. Or that it sounds a lot like Hey, Nice work, but you Still Suck so Why Bother? Maybe it’s because I live very near to Fed Central and those folk are some of the most over worked and underpaid people in the universe, regardless of the big gov. spending. Maybe its because when people discuss the sexual abuse of children-which by its very definition and phrasing, means the sexual abuse of children…they get all “women and girls” when, hey, women are not children and likening them to such is really pretty insulting, and oh, wow, boy children not only get sexually abused too, they get abused statistically in pretty close numbers to girls…and that is not a what about the men apologist bullshit anything- it is the way it is, and if people are going to defend/say what about the children, well, they should mean ALL of them, or just simply say “What about the girls?” Maybe its because no way in hell could the FBI watch out for sex trafficking and child sexual abuse all over the world, nor are they supposed to. Maybe it’s because you know, where I live, and where a lot of other people live, there are some nasty gang type people (MS-13, anyone?) who deal in all kinds of shit, including murder, prostitution, and why yes, trafficking, who the FBI has been able to fuck with due to terrorism laws and funding? Maybe because people like to blame and point fingers when the simple truth is, laws aside, there are always gonna be some sick twisted fucks out there who are gonna to sick, twisted things?

So, not too far back (think, oh, November 20th or so, in the year 2010) myself and my parole officer…er…friend…Shen headed north to Baltimore for a much needed all chick night of merriment. Our plan was simple…pack some shit, get in a car, head up the road to Charm City, go to our hotel room, chill, eat, chill, then hit probably the best industrial goth club in the area…via a taxi so we could drink and not worry about driving OR parking…have fun, come home, sleep, return South the next morning.

And so it was supposed to be…hell, I even booked a room in advance and shit.

So Friday afternoon arrives, and along with it, Shen. We wanted to leave early so as to miss the absolute terror that is Friday Rush Hour traffic in the to, through, in and around DC/Baltimore area. So I toss my bag in the car, have some tunes in hand, and off we go…

And for a moment there, we felt a bit like the Winchester Boys…We have AC/DC blasting on the stereo, cool jackets on, did I mention Shen drives a red Mustang? No? Well, Shen drives a red Mustang, we are on the freeway…and going about 30 miles an hour because even though we left early- specifically- there is so much traffic the road is a parking lot. So goes the

In case we needed to pray...

Winchester moment and sets in the annoyance with civilization. The AC/DC stayed.

Anyway, we eventually arrive in B’more, and with surprisingly little effort, find our Hotel, which is this old Historical Thing that SHOULD be a bed and breakfast, but isn’t, is close to the Inner Harbor, but, oh, a block or three into SCARY Baltimore, and across the street from a HUGE, very cool looking old church….Shen and I looked at it, shook our heads, and in unison said “Lutherans” (turned out to be Presbyterian…not that we went in and prayed, but I looked at the sign). So, we note right off…no parking. No way in hell we are parking the ‘Stang on the street, so I, looking much like my camo wearing self, go in and inquire about parking. Turns out they have a deal with the…get this…hospital… down the street. So, we go park in the hospital parking garage then hoof it the block and half of so back down to the hotel and check in.

The place was certainly historical…and they had a big grey cat who lives in the lobby. We check in and head up to our room (third floor, no ‘vators, winding staircase). The key for the room is an actual…key. We go in and laugh…wall to wall old school silk wall paper, rustic furniture, little table with china for eating…it did have a tv with cable though! All that was missing was the claw foot tub. We both decide we dig it. At this point, out comes the flask with the JD in it, and we proceed to chill watching Law and Order until food motivates us to move.

So, back out we go. We find a sub shop down the road and decide that will do. We go in. Amid the customers are a homeless dude talking to himself at a table and a gal we were pretty certain was a smack addict who was on the nod. We order our food, and the woman making the sandwiches whips out with this knife to cut them and we are like…woah…it was a sandwich machete. We get our food, head back, eat it…damn good sandwiches I must say…then chill until it is time to head out.

So I'm a hick, deal with it.

Head out time arrives. We suit up. Shen looks like a dang gunslinger…I think it’s the leather duster, and I..well, look like the lost Tremor Brother as is typical…but yes, I will wear this belt and buckle (the buckle was my B-Day present from Shen, oddly enough) to a goth/industrial club. So we head out to get a cab, we do so, and the cabbie is surprisingly nice We get there. Where, you might ask? Well…here…

I know all the classy places!

Dude do I totally take my friends to all the nicest places or what??? And we are early. And it is cold. So we hang outside smoking, waiting for the place to open, when this gal comes flying around the corner looking a bit paranoid. Kind of a rockabilly looking gal, and obviously younger than us. She asks if she can hang with us because she thinks someone might be following her (gotta love Charm City), we say yes. So the three of us are now chillin’, turns out her friend is DJ’ing there, we’re chatting, and then the bartender arrives…and gets his car kicked and yelled at by some passing Urban Youth as he is trying to park. It was a bit surreal, actually. He makes it inside, yelling a bunch of shit most of us would not say but were thinking, then one of the DJ arrives and asks Shen and I to make sure his gear does not get stolen as he is running it inside, we do so, then we finally go in and head directly to the bar…

The bartender apologizes for his tirade, we say we can understand why he was pissed…then we go sit somewhere, and come to the horrible realization that while for eons untold Friday Nite has been industrial/goth nite at this place…they have changed the format to Rave Music. That’s what I get for not checking their website and just assuming things would be as they should be in the goddamn universe just ONCE. This does not please us, but not much we can do- and truth be told, it was pretty obvious everyone else there knew the Gunslinger and the Lost Tremor were there on the wrong night…we did not blend amid all the color and glow sticks and baggy ass hippy meets the early 80’s clothes (parachute pants, I shit you not). So we do what we can do at this point…hit the flask (ah yes, no metal detectors), the bar, and snark at people. Which we can apparently do with impunity, as the girl from the door (Lara) comes to join us because she is being harassed by some dude, and it has been determined amidst the amazingly colorful (and most of them high as hell on X and blow) ravers in attendance that we are scary and best left alone…

This never fails to amuse me, ffs, I am 5’2″ and I was not wearing heels.

Anyway, Lara heads off to speak with some of her friends, and Shen and I notice something…she and a couple other folk are wearing tails. Like animal tails, attached to their pants, so it looks like they have tails. This perplexes us. We are wondering what the tails stand for or mean. We ponder on this, then finally (after hitting the flask again) I say “Maybe they are Furries?” And I cannot think of furries without thinking of that episode of CSI…we ponder on this for a bit, then Lara returns, and Shen says “hey, what are the tails for?”

And Lara says, grinning and no hesitation. “I’m a Furry.”

Shen and I do not crack up. It took some willpower. We ask if all the tailed people are Furries. Yep, seems they are. She is telling us about the Furry thing when this woman, who either has five years on me, or looks like she has 5 years on me, and is dressed like Cyndi Lauper from the 80’s, when she really should not be, comes by and pet’s Lara’s tail.

Well, poor Lara looked like a Furry in headlights I tell ya. I figure its kinda like people touching my hair without permission, but Lara says “Oh god, I just pictured her naked…” Shen loses it and tells her “Honey, don’t visualize.” Lara calms herself, attempting to erase the thought from her head, then looks at me, noticing my necklace and says…

“Are you wearing a necklace with live rounds on it?”

Ren arches a brow. “Maybe.”

She asks to see it, questioning about what type of bullets and what they are used for then she notes one of them, a .9mm…is…Silver.

Why yes, I do have a silver bullet…..

The Tails! It's a sign!

And I have never seen a person step away from me like I was Satan faster than that. It was FUNNY. I promise her that I have never shot a Furry in my life, its strictly for werewolves. Okay, no, I mostly have it because I think it is funny and cool. She accepts this answer, continues to speak with us, and Shen and I learn that Baltimore, believe it or not, is like the Furry Capitol of the Mid Atlantic…

Now, I knew that both DC and Baltimore had decent sized BDSM scenes and such, but this was something I did not realize, and Shen and I come to know we are surrounded by…Raver Furries!

We are suddenly glad I actually have a Silver Bullet! At this point we go out to smoke, snark about Ravers, and play spot the Furries. After a few coffin nails, we go back in, Shen is chatting with Lara, and a fellow in a tail comes to talk to me. Not my type. I show him the Silver Bullet. It works. The bartender laughs at me and says “I KNEW you two were here on the wrong night!” I reply that this used to be industrial night! He nods and says they changed over about two months ago. I grumble about driving all the way from Manassass in Friday Traffic and getting a room to come here for my B-Day to hear some dang Ministry and its goddamn hippy raver night. He looks at me, notes my belt buckle, notes Shen (who is standing near by) in her gunslinger coat, laughs again…and then gives me a shot of Jack and a beer free of charge. I like this bartender…

So, the night winds down and we head out, folk are gathering up their things and heading out. Lara and her DJ friends invite us to come to their after party, we decline and call a cab. I am amazingly amused to learn that one of our raver DJ’s work name is DJ Twitch. So we wait for our cab…and wait, and wait, then Shen calls back and gets medieval on them…the cab arrives, and I tell you this…

That freakin’ cabby should be in NASCAR.

So, we get back to our hotel, sleep, get up, I learn hot water is fleeting in our hotel, pack up, and head home…and realize we never got charged for parking! Score!

And snicker about Furries, Silver Bullets, Ravers and humans in general, while listening to AC/DC doing maybe 50 in the ‘Stang all the way home.

So yes, if you are going to Charm City? Make sure you have money for parking, reservations, and silver bullets.

I still totally owe the world a post (with pictures) about Shen and my trip to Baltimore for my B-day Night out…lets just say, I am now certain one needs silver bullets when in Maryland…

But, my T-Day Apocalypse was a success, and I have been in an art mood, and thus drawing…kinda anime style stuff this go around (shocking I know) and I have come to the conclusion, whenst drawing my favorite fictional characters of the moment…I am really glad only ONE of them has a shit ton of ink. That’s the hardest part…drawing the tattoos….

So, I’ve been feeling particularly vile and sadistic here lately, and since I have no one around willing to, er, handle that, I found myself having to work some of that vibe out in a different way that would, oh, not only take an edge off but leave me also in pain: Answer, Yoga. Now see, I know Yoga is supposed to be all mellow and relaxing and stuff, and sure, some of the breathing and cool down stretches are nice- but over all? I’ll take the rack, dude. Yoga is more painful that relocating ones shoulder with a door jamb, and I would know. But hey, no longer affording the gym and it’s what was on Fit TV and seriously…I needed to do something physical or lose my mind- so Yoga it was.

Then, while still working out of this bent, I did something I really probably should not have- I poked around and read some blogs- looking around to see what other folk were talking about because a), I’ve been out of the loop, and b) I was bored and let me tell you this…

It’s a good thing I am too sore to pick up a damn sledge hammer.

Seriously, I am out there reading, and grinding my teeth while doing so…because you know what? Nothing fuckin’ grimly amuses the shit out of me like a bunch of women, who probably come from pretty nice middle class backgrounds, who are probably really damn educated, and in this case, well, many of whom seem to be lesbians sitting around talking about classism and sexism- then proceed to basically call straight women…idiots, deluded and uneducated. Yes yes yes, indeedy, all those poor stupid straight women who barely graduate high school or drop out to get married and make babies and end up screwed and have NO skills- and of course, the obligatory asshole cockbearing overlord at the center of all of it! Hell yeah, little Suzy Straight Girl might have been hot and mean back then, but NOW she is stupid and fucked! Oh, poor Suzy Straight Girl (mock sad smile, condescending pat on the head)…

Now, last time I checked, Intelligence was not modified in any way by sexual orientation. Do correct me if I am wrong. I am also certain that no straight women out there (especially married ones!) ever became successful business professionals, made money, did well for themselves and no lesbians ever had kids, did not earn higher educations, or had bad relationships (snerk).

And the fact that class was even a PART of this discussion? I seriously wonder if these people even realize how many women-of any color or sexual orientation- who are lower class, simply cannot get college educations (much less advanced degrees) or training that will give them good, professional jobs, how many of these women simply do not have the time, money or means (what, with the rest of life going on) to do these things? Or if, gasp, these oh so wonderfully professional and educated and smart lesbians are they themselves really only an accident, a wave of downsizing, a tragedy, a medical emergency, or a company buy out away from being in the exact same sort of situation as the recently divorced diploma having single mom? As if they could never end up there…because they are smart lesbians! Or, if as smart lesbians, they are really any better off- because you know, not all straight women are uneducated breeders with no skills and an abusive shit of a man at home. Now sure, I realize lesbians, especially non conventionally attractive ones, take some shit- but come on…

I want to know if they can change their own tires, clean their own kills, find a head gasket, re-wire a broken socket, sew their own clothing, or lift something that is 3/4 of their own body weight…or do they just have lower class straight gals or the men who are married to them to do that for them?

Pfft. discussions of classism from these folk…shit, do us all a favor- holidays are coming up- make yourself feel good by donating to a food drive and realize that to a lot of us not as educated lesser in class straight gals- you’ll always be douchebags…and maybe, just because you are not tainted by the cock? You ain’t that smart. And yeah, fuck you intellectual bitches, we’ve got guns!

Oh yeah, and anyone who wants to come along and do the “well, I have been made fun of, beaten up, yelled at, humiliated, hurt, so on for being a lesbian”…well guess what, sure, I have straight privilege, but I sure as shit have been all of those things for being lower class, so cry me a river, eh?

So, Gin has a post up that, amid other things, touches on a subject near and dear to my heart…which is Television and Movie Tough Gals. I mean it’s noooo secret I love strong women

Fiona, Current Queen of the Tough Gals!

characters, so yep, sure enough, when I watch TV or movies, I like to see them…however, I want them to be…believable, and all to often, they simply aren’t. Yes, there are good ones, in TV and movies past and present, some that spring to mind right away are Fiona from Burn Notice, Ziva on NCIS, Sarah on Chuck, Annie on Chase (who is actually a bit over the top), Olivia on L&O SVU, Gina Torres as ANYONE she has ever played (Zoe on Firefly, Cleopatra, forget her name on Hercules) Ripley from The Alien Series (esp. the later movies), Vasquez from Aliens (the actress who played her also played other tough gals in Near Dark and Lethal Weapon 3), Lorna from the Lethal Weapon movies, and, of course, the often mentioned Linda Hamilton from T2 (I would also add Major Houlihan from MASH, a tough gal of a different sort)…and oh damn, the gal who did the guest spot on Leverage as the Other Team’s version of Elliot Spencer (hottest fight scene ever!) And what is it that makes these tough gals awesome IMHO as compared to, oh, the gals in the current incarnation of Nikita, or either of the Catwomans, or Zoe Saldana in The Losers, or Angelina Jolie in Wanted (not so much in some of her other films), or Silk Spectre 2 in Watchmen, or tons and tons and tons of other movie and TV tough gals?

They are believable in the parts! The way they look, the way their fight scenes are choreographed, the weapons and tactics they use…well, heck, they work as badasses! It works, it flows, as a viewer, you think “hey, that could work!” The actors playing the characters possess a physicality which makes their badassness believable. The directors have them using moves and fighting styles that work for them. Even Fiona of Burn Notice- who is a petite, slim (very buff) gal- well, the way they do her badassness- it works! Which is awesome, because I can tell you, other times, it does not. In the Losers, I was really sitting there going “There is no damn way, no matter how drunk he is, that Zoe Saldana’s character would be able to kick the crap out of Jeffery Dean Morgan’s character…no way”-let alone hold a rocket launcher steady to get off a shot like that. In Wanted I was fairly certain that a very, very, very skinny Angelina Jolie would not actually be able to run a block, much less as much running she did in the film at such..velocity, let alone even pick up half the guns she was using. And yes, sometimes, due to the nature of the character, you can have a hot, supermodel skinny actress play a bad ass (Meg and Ruby from Supernatural come to mind) because well, they aren’t…fully human. Any actress can play a vampire or alien or whatever and be a badass, because, well, they are “special”, but even then..I really do like it when the gals playing tough gals are believable at it.

Angela Basset in Strange Days

I remember how just amazingly pleased I was with the two tough gals in the film Strange Days, played by Angela Basset and Louise LeCavalier…because you know, they both LOOKED the part. These were two women characters you did not want angry or coming after you- both were professionals Basset’s

LeCavalier in Strange Days

character a bodyguard and mother, LeCavalier’s character (a bit part, but there none the less) a hired thug and club crawler. And sure enough, both of them kick some butt…and look like they could!

And you know what else I pay a lot of attention to when determining a tv or movie tough gal? The ones who are good? They will pull their hair (if it is long) up or back when they are knowingly about to get in a fight or go to work- where as the sexxxay ones won’t because hey, it’s not as hot, and more times than not? Unbelievable tough gals…well, they run, shoot, fight, kill, kick ass, all that…in six inch heels. I even have noticed in some movies the sexxxay female tough gal walks into the scene in crazy heels, but in the fight, when she is actually doing the movies, magically, they are flats! (ahem, Watchmen, Batman Returns). HAHAHAHAH.

(oh, and for anyone who has ever worn it, no way in hell someone can actually do cool ass karate and stuff in…full tight ass vinyl).

Ahem. As a general rule, it is assumed that if one is a slut, they like sex Possibly with lots of people. However, lots of people may not include Mr.X. So, if Mr.X has sex with Slut Y when she did NOTwant it with him- thats rape. However, Mr.X and his lawyers will then drag Slut Y’s sexual history into it- the media too….but, in a world that was rational or sane, Slut Y’s sexual history would work in her favor….

What? Quit giving me that look. I’m RIGHT here…wanna know why?

Because if Slut Y is, you know, a slut, and all these numerous seedy and shocking trysts of hers can be shown in a court of law- its should be an huge indicator of something: Slut Y is often, as they say (cough) on “the Jersey Shore”, “DTF”. It means she has, of her own will and everything, had lots of sex. Which MEANS, if she is accusing Mr. X of raping her…he probably did. She’s prolly being dang serious, because it was NOT just another notch on the belt one night stand blah blah blah. Slut Y, who is generally good with and has fun with the whole sex thing- and has a rep for it- is saying NO, It Wasn’t Like That, I was Not DTF (even if I usually am), there is something wrong here…because, yeah, I might say yes a lot- hell, my rep and all these other people say so- but to Mr. X? I said NO. I’ve said yes to Jim, and Mike, and George, and Artie, I’ve said yes to Jose, and Fred and Carl and Hank. I’ve said yes to Dave and Stan and Mitch….but to Mr. X, I said no.

An uncommon occurance.

Slut Y’s m.o. and history of yes should work in her favor, because when Slut Y says no…well hell, there has got to be a reason, her no is (via witness statements!) not a common thing…so when she does say no???